


This Is A Very Hawkward Turtle

by elluvias



Series: Hawkward Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elluvias/pseuds/elluvias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawkward!Hawke returns in a Seb vs Fenris showdown. Kink!meme fill. :3 Hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is A Very Hawkward Turtle

“Thank you Sebastian!”

Julien smiled at the Chantry brother with all the enthusiasm he could muster. Which was a lot, really, because Sebastian had been kind enough to stay with him the last few weeks while Julien recovered from a nasty bout of ‘fight to the death with the Arishok and win’. It wasn’t that Julien didn’t like Orana or Bodhan or Sandal or Mr. Flibbles. It was just he needed someone outside the house with him.

Sebastian was his friend, his _good_ friend who didn’t give him awkward looks or anything of that nature. Not that Julien was trying to actively avoid Anders, but he…well…the botched romance with Fenris had put a strain on everyone’s friendships and Julien saw the necessity of Fenris’ actions with the Arishok but Anders was still blaming the elf for the pain the white haired mage was in. Or in the words of Anders ‘you tried to get him killed you sick mage hating bastard!’.

It was simply easier to have friends, friends who weren’t trying to put the entire city back together or deal with the massive amount of wounded that came with an invasion, simply stay over and spend time with him. It had been a pleasant surprise when Sebastian had found out how well read Julien had been. Which was a surprise really, apostate on the run, creeper in the corner who reads Varrics or Isabela’s trashy romance novels while everyone else seemed intent on getting drunk or gambling. No one expected him to have gone to those books only because he’d gone through every available magical theory tome at his disposal (it would have taken longer if he’d been at the Circle, but he wasn’t and being an apostate meant that getting books of that nature was very risky).

“You’re welcome Hawke. I’m always happy to help a friend.”

“Haha friend? I’m glad you think so now.” Julien leaned against the smaller rogue, wishing desperately he’d been made shorter. Sebastian smelled nice, clean, with a hint of the incense that they used in the Chantry. Sebastian had that sort of warm scent enveloping him, one that made Julien want to curl up in a big ball in a pile of Sebastian’s clothes and nap. Not that he’d actually do that…really! He wouldn’t! Not unless he was drunk, then all bets were off on what embarrassing situations Julien would get himself into. Like that incident with Isabela and the goat, but they had agreed that it really hadn’t happened if anyone ever asked. Which thankfully no one had, so it meant that the incident that really had happened hadn’t, at least in theory…Maker Julien was still wickedly high from Anders’ pain potions.

“What with all my nefarious magey magicking abilities I might just steal your soul.”

Sebastian laughed, a warm full sound that had Julien pleasantly warmed. He made Sebastian laugh! With one of his awful jokes! Wonders would never cease in this shithole called a city. He couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his mouth and lit up his eyes. It felt good to make someone laugh for once, and that person being the normally serious Sebastian. Well he was happy.

“Somehow I doubt that Hawke.”

“Aha! See! It’s all part of my plan to lull you into complacency and then zap! I’m going to have your soul and the throne of Starkhaven and then I will rule the world!”

“Ah well that was your mistake Hawke, now I shall be forever on my guard against your nefarious plans.” Sebastian responded dryly, good humor in his voice as he helped the mage hobble his way from his Hightown mansion towards Lowtown for their weekly game of Diamondback. “And you will have to be content with simply being the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“Oh poo, well I’ll think of something new.” The conversation was light, and easy. Their camaraderie had always been easy, Julien was a good man at heart. Well at least Julien liked to think he was a good man at heart. Certainly he did make his living off raiding the dead corpses of slain enemies or doing all sorts of strange adventuring, but he tried to make moral choices…or when there wasn’t a moral choice try to make the one that would least likely end in a massacre.

It was a long trip down from Hightown to Lowtown, longer than Julien remembered. He was hurting more than a little by the time they made it to the Hanged Man, and Sebastian, sweet Sebastian noticed. They stood outside the tavern as Julien caught his breath. His eyes were closed as he took in deep breaths to try and still his racing heart and relax muscles that had tensed up in the long walk. Magic could only heal so much, and it was a testimony to how skilled a healer Anders was that Julien was alive, let along hobbling around with help. Still his closed eyes and preoccupation with shoving down his pain had him not noticing the peculiar look Sebastian was giving him.

Well it was all well and good because Julien wouldn’t have noticed anyway even if he had seen the look. Julien for all his mighty magical proweress was a bit of an odd duck. He empathized with Merrill a great deal, because most of the time even he wasn’t sure what his companions were talking about but had the suspicion it was likely dirty and illegal in every country under the white divine. It was a good assumption to have when it came to the group of friends he had. Except Aveline, good old Aveline who he understood perfectly. Really how did everyone else not realize that metal was strong, copper ages well, and flowers were soft? It made perfect sense to Julien…

Which meant that if it made perfect sense to him then it likely was a puzzle for everyone else and didn’t fit anywhere near ‘normal’.

“Hawke!”

A chorus of happy cries greeted him when he made it through the door. Immediately swept away from Sebastian by an overexcited Merrill he found himself with an armful of happy dalish. He smiled when she squeezed him, ignoring the pain it brought him. He pet her hair soothingly.

“Hey Merrill.”

“Oh! You’re still hurt. I’m so sorry, I was just happy to see you an-“

“Merrill it’s fine, I’m happy to see you too. You should come visit more often. I’d like it.” Merrill often reminded Julien of Bethany as a small child. So sweet and innocent with a well hidden mischievous streak and cunning wrapped up in layers of cuteness. He wasn’t about to tell his companions Merrill was smarter than she seemed, they wouldn’t believe him anyway.

“Well I would if…you know…Fenris wasn’t guarding the door.” Merrill whispered, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “He’s been rather scary lately, maybe tonight will make him feel better?”

“Wait…what?” Surprised Julien tilted his head to the side as he looked at the tiny elf girl in his arms. She fidgeted but he tightened his arms around her, trapping her against him. He wanted to know what she just said, again.

“Didn’t you know? Fenris has been guarding your estate against unwanted guests who might…interrupt your healing.”

Julien wanted to squee in happiness. Maybe Fenris really did care! Maybe the handkerchief he’d given the warrior meant something. But…Fenris…It was so hard to tell and Julien still blamed himself for their friendship falling apart after their one night affair. Julien wasn’t like the others, he couldn’t roll over the next day after the most amazing sex in his life and…not feel rather deeply for his partner. He’d felt rather deeply towards Fenris before their sexual encounter and now Fenris knew Julien was a pervy elf fancier. Well more a pervy Fenris fancier…and Julien was terrified that the memories he’d helped Fenris unlock had all been of abuse because Julien’s magic had given the nessecary link to unlock those sorts of terrible memories.

It’d be his luck that would have been what had happened, Fenris likely wouldn’t have been so upset if the memories had been of flowers and sunshine. Wouldn’t have looked so disgusted when he left.

Maker Julien still felt dirty, felt like he’d forced something to happen that shouldn’t have. So he’d avoided Fenris as best he could, though the warrior was everywhere in his life. Julien was thankful Carver hadn’t gotten wind of this or else he’d have to worry about his younger brother trying to behead or castrate Fenris with a rusty spoon.

Not that Carver would admit that was the reason for the dead or mutilated elf. He’d say something along the lines of ‘the elf went too far’ or some other such nonsense. Julien would know and Carver would know Julien knew, and that would just make everything so awkward at family gatherings. Well if Julien and Carver still had family gatherings, which they didn’t. Carver avoided Julien like he had some sort of communicable disease. Which the last time Julien checked he didn’t…but perhaps he’d ask Anders…

Wait metaphor right, metaphor didn’t mean he actually had something. Just that Carver avoided him like he did and ooooo was that ale? Julien had missed ale. Or what they passed as ale at the Hanged Man. Was Anders here yet? No. Then it was a-okay for him to have some sort of alcoholic substance before the healer arrived.

Because you know, actually mixing pain medication and alcohol infront of Anders was a bad thing. It made the repercussions far more likely to happen, if only because Anders would tell him what to look for rather than find himself in that pleasantly muddled place where Julien hadn’t managed to ruin the one relationship he’d sort of kind of started but managed to muck up before 24 hours had passed.

Maybe he should just move to Tevinter and get the evil mage-y ness out of his system? Problem is he didn’t want to move up to such a warm climate, and his skin would hate him forever if he did. Sunlight and his skin mixed about as well as Fenris being dumped in the annual slaver convention with his sword. It was just going to be a lot of red with pain mixed in, and the knowledge that they knew better than to do it but did it anyway.

“No.”

The firm voice had Julien stiffening like a naughty child caught stealing a cookie. His hand firmly wrapped around the tempting pint of ale that was sweetly singing his name. Alcohol always made the bad things go away, except when it didn’t, and that was always cured with more alcohol….cookies and Varric’s copper romances.

Because if Julien was going to be honest with himself, he really was just a bit of a girl on the inside.

But perhaps that threatening familiar voice had been speaking to Anders? It must have been, not to Julien. Fenris wouldn’t talk to him just yet. So reassured by his rather odd logic Julien began to lift the glass, only to find it firmly back on the table a smaller but stronger hand keeping the alcohol firmly out of his reach.

“No Hawke.”

“But why?” Julien didn’t mean to sound like a small child but it came out that way. He was avoiding looking at Fenris. Nope, not following the hand that attached to an arm that attached itself to a Fenris. All dark skinned and lyrium lines that sorta kinda begged Julien to lick. Fenris was a drug, a legitimate drug, and perhaps Julien should report him for Aveline because Aveline dealt with that sort of thing.

“Hawke you drank an entire bottle of pain potion before you came here. You’re not imbibing in any alcohol.” Sebastian’s concerned voice floated into Julien’s mind and the mage pouted. Because he couldn’t say no to Sebastian, the poor boy was already going to get a nasty shock when he died and realized that the Maker was some drunken slovenly deity that sat on a chair and watched his children’s lives through some great mirror-y thing and made awful commentary on how they played out. Was Julien the only one who realized this?

Probably.

“Okay _fine_.” He capitulated to the priest, and before he could do something like make an utter fool of himself again, he let go of the tankard and latched on to the nearest safe object. Sebastian. Who was warm and clean and smelled like cuddles. Yes, Sebastian smelled like cuddles, because if cuddles had a scent it’d be Sebastian.

Maker he was really high.

As he nuzzled the surprisingly soft hair on Sebastian’s head he noticed something. It was odd, really, but the temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees. Huh…he smelled ozone too, which was odd because that was not on the list of scents he associated with Sebastian.

“Hawke, why don’t you sit down?” Varric’s reasonable voice floated up to the more than mildly intoxicated mage who smiled happily down at the dwarf. Varric always made him happy, he was a tiny hairy dwarf filled with happiness and stories. Varric was like the uncle Julien wished he had, not the Uncle he did have. Gamlen hadn’t come to visit him, which made him a little sad though not surprised. Though perhaps if Fenris really had been guarding his door against unwanted visitors he’d have chased Gamlen away?

“Okay my trusty dwarf!” He detached himself from Sebastian reluctantly, because despite Sebastian wearing his armor the man was still very nice to cuddle. “You are very small.” Julien commented offhand as he found his usual seat next to Aveline empty. The guardswoman hadn’t gotten up when Julien had come inside, but she smiled at him when he maneuvered himself awkwardly into his seat. He didn’t give a damn what everyone else thought as he tilted to the side and nuzzled her ginger hair with all the affection he could muster.

Julien felt so awkward and ugly compared to his companions. Only an inch shorter than Anders, with long white hair pulled back in a braid, skin about was white as his mother’s fine porcelain. He looked like a ghost man thing, a giant ghost man thing, and he wondered if his father had not had some qunari in his bloodline. It would explain the paleness and the general bigness that was Julien, except Carver was far bulkier than Julien even if Julien was taller. A point of contention between the two, if only because Carver thought that being the lone sword he should have the height and the muscles. Julien would have gladly foisted those inches off onto Carver if he could. He also wore glasses, which meant he was nearly useless without them, not entirely since they found out that Julien could still set the correct enemies on fire. It just meant that the poor mage had to be lead around like a dog by whomever was willing to keep Julien from accidentally killing himself.

It used to be Fenris who volunteered himself for that job, the elf gently taking the mage’s larger hand in his own and leading him through the ‘treacherous’ terrain. Treacherous had a very wide definition when it came to Julien, so far it meant ‘everything’ in his companions dictionaries. Especially once they witnessed Julien tripping over a nonexistent rock in a grassy field filled with flowers then being almost mauled by a bearskern that happened to be wandering by. Julien’s life went that way most of the time, a fact that often had his companions always on edge and ready to kill at any point something looked mildly threatening towards the mage.

Not that Julien couldn’t take care of himself. He _did_ defeat the Arishok in single combat. Even with the knowledge that Julien was likely the most powerful person in Kirkwall, the most dangerous mage in Thedas most likely (exempting Flemeth), it was hard to image he’d hurt anyone as he affectionately nuzzled Aveline with a happy look on his face.

“So who’s in?” Varric asked and Julien’ cracked open an eye to look at the dwarf. “Not me.” He murmured drowning himself in Aveline’s unique scent of duty, which was remarkably very similar to slightly sweaty woman in armor with a hint of sword polish and leather. Everyone else said that they were in, and bless Aveline’s soul she put up with an overgrown mageling cuddling her for a good half hour.

“Next.” The guardswoman finally muttered, half exasperated and half amused by Julien’s affections. Sebastian grinned amused. “I suppose that means me.” The priest said, getting up from his seat, laying his cards down and with the utmost care maneuvering Julien off of Aveline. The guardswoman got up and moved to Sebastian’s vacant seat, allowing the rogue to slip into her previous one, soon finding himself attached to a mage.

“Heh never seen Hawke this cuddly before.” Varric grinned over his cards at Julien, a certain fondness in his golden eyes.

“I doubt Hawke’s had to drink that much pain potion and go somewhere before.” Sebastian replied, situating Julien so the taller man had his head in the crook of Sebastian’s neck while the rogue had his arm around Julien’s shoulders, hand absently petting the mage. Julien made a noise, contented and soft, and kept his arms wrapped around Sebastian’s waist. Sebastian played one handed, not winning but not losing too terribly either.

“Do you need to switch?” After an hour had passed Merrill piped up, her wide green eyes on Julien. The mage was mostly asleep, his glasses askew, and he’d moved from leaning heavily against Sebastian to taking up most of the bench, curled awkwardly on his side, face in the priest’s lap only a few scant inches from Andraste’s relief.

“Perhaps we should take him home instead.” Fenris murmured his eyes on Sebastian, wary and sharp. It wasn’t the first time the priest was glad Fenris couldn’t actually read his thoughts no matter how attuned they were to each other. It would be…unpleasant if the elf knew how exactly Sebastian was taking advantage of Fenris’ trust. Not that that was what Sebastian had intended to do originally. Originally he’d only started to see Hawke as a friend would another, the days of his wild youth long gone and he had felt only concern for the leader of their group.

Then as he spent time with Hawke, Julien, with no interruption from their friends Sebastian began to see something else. It was small at first, but he began to realize Julien was…something more than just _Hawke_. They shared a similar pain, a loss of family they possibly could have prevented if they’d done _more_ , been _more_ , and the betrayals by those close also impacted them both. Julien had never spoken of it, he was a private man in his grief over the loss of his family, but Sebastian had seen the pain for what it was. Then he’d found, quite accidentally, that Julien was smarter than he seemed. His own lack of knowledge to his own knowledge had boggled Sebastian. Then he began to see a bigger picture.

Then Sebastian was taken in and he couldn’t help it. It felt wrong in a way, caring so deeply for an apostate, caring for the love of his best friend, but as Sebastian ran calloused fingers over Julien’s white hair it felt right as well. He was soul sick, his destiny leading him into two different directions. He was a rash man, a fault he had to reflect on if he chose either path. Yet, the mage dozing in his lap calmed the fires and brought about a sense of clarity, of peace.

Sebastian could understand why Fenris loved and feared Julien.

“Perhaps.” Sebastian agreed, gently shaking Julien’s shoulder. The taller man made a noise, a half whine as he tried to maneuver himself into hiding from the hand trying to wake him. It ended with a thud as Julien fell off the bench and onto the floor under the table with a grunt of pain.

“Hawke!?” It never ceased to amaze Julien his own ability to not look awesome. Really. It was ridiculous. He’d get up if he wasn’t in a sort of drugged up muted agony. His limbs heavy and aching with fire and knives. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t really move because if he did he was likely going to do something and the wall holding back his very unmanly tears was going to dissolve.

The table above him was moved quickly, he could sense its passing over him. He felt familiar hands on him, gentle hands, soft hands. “Oh Hawke you shouldn’t have come if you hurt this bad.” Merrill’s kind voice filtered in and he smiled, through the pain and the nonexistent tears running down his cheeks. “But then I wouldn’t have seen your pretty face, lethallin.” His voice was soft and she laughed quietly, kneeling and putting his head in her lap to keep it from the dirty floor. She always liked it when he used elvish with her, it was their little very awkward and not really that rebellious middle finger to the norms of…well everything.

“You are going home Hawke.” The familiar gruff voice growled at him. “I will take you.” There was no argument given, no one even tried to interject. Which meant it was likely a very good idea that he was going home, and Fenris also likely had his ‘touch it and I will eviscerate you’ face on. Merrill was a brave brave girl in Julien’s mind, because while Julien wasn’t technically Fenris’ lover anymore. He was still Fenris’ friend, and Fenris was rather territorial over the few things he considered his. Julien knew that he was, had been, currently maybe, sorta still in that category. Julien wasn’t sure and pain and drugs were mixing together to make his brain really fuzzy.

“Fenris I think I broke something.” Julien’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and the mage managed to finally crack an eye open to look at the rather captivating green eyes of his… unadmitted though likely painfully obvious first love. Yes, yes Fenris, prickly snarly snarky Fenris was Julien’s first real honest to Maker love.

He should get over it, he should but…Fenris was Fenris and once he took residence someplace he sort of stayed. He didn’t leave and held onto his place rather firmly even if Julien tried to quietly remove him from the premises. Honestly Danarius’ mansion was a health hazard and the unrotting corpses that simply stayed in the front foyer didn’t help Julien in his opinion on that and he just compared his heart to a decrepit moldy mansion that occasionally had infestations of anything from shades to rats very unusual corpses.

Well at least no one knew he’d done that. Except himself…and…Fenris just touched him! Granted it was a hand to his cheek to keep Julien’s wandering focus on him, and Fenris was using that silent no words needed communication they’d developed. Except Julien’s had missed the first part and he was wondering what Fenris was trying to communicate to him.

Fenris huffed a sigh, something maybe sorta like amusement curving his lips up into a smile and Julien’s inner teenaged girl squealed in happiness and start babbling about how pretty Fenris was when he smiled and Julien should do more to make Fenris smile like that. It also gave Julien some…hope, that maybe he hadn’t entirely made a mess of things with Fenris. Maybe Fenris could forgive him for his…whatever evil magicky thing he’d done to make Fenris leave.

“You’re going to have to be more specific Hawke. We’ve broken a lot of things for that to be helpful in figuring out what is wrong.” Fenris’ voice was gentle, and it made Julien want to turn into a warm puddle of goo and purr. Except that’d be really unsanitary to do on the Hanged Man’s floor. Please Maker do not let him be laying in a puddle of piss, vomit, or stew.

“Our friendship…” Shit he hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and Fenris gave him a startled look. “And me!” He added in a quick rush of breath because that was what he had meant to say. “Me I broke me, I might be…bleeding a bit..again…and” Fenris’ expression shuttered as Julien realized he could actually find it in him to panic while high on pain potion. He was proud, or well more, wondering if there was a situation besides ‘fight to the death with the Arishok and win’ that he couldn’t panic in. Sex was ruled out, because he had managed to panic during that…every time for silly reasons. Oh! Wait he hadn’t panicked so far while making pie. So pie making and duels to the death were the two situations that Julien was anxiety and panic free.

His life was very strange.

Fenris placed a single quieting finger on Julien’s lips when he was about to go on. Julien stilled at that, his breathing coming unevenly. Could he? No. He shouldn’t, even though he wanted to press a kiss to that calloused finger touching him. The lyrium too, it was close, so very close and Julien could just open his mouth and suck Fenris’ finger inside and have just a little…taste…and that was such a wrong dirty thought that Julien nearly started panicking all over again because he was having dirty thoughts about his ex right here when he was more than certain now that he’d reopened a wound because he felt warm wet stickiness in a place that wasn’t actually touching the floor.

“Sebastian went to get Anders, we’re not moving you until we know what exactly you hurt before we take you home.” Fenris explained and knowing the exact reason as to why he was still on the dirty floor of the Hanged Man’s main room made it so much easier…except Fenris was still touching him and Julien was trying not to think about Fenris touching him which made him think about Fenris touching him and…

Right that was the bad circular spiral of logic that sent him into panic attacks. His mother had warned him about that. Actually his mother had warned him about strangers, chewing with his mouth open, and the wicked wiles of men. That had been…a very awkward conversation between the both of them. Father would have been better suited for giving Julien ‘the talk’ but he’d been out of town when mother had come to the realization that her eldest…liked men too. His normally unflappable mother had been well flapped at the realization, and the twins had picked up on it too.

Mother had liked Fenris though. She had liked Fenris, and Julien was fairly certain she’d checked out his bum once. Not that he had blamed her at all, but it’d been very disquieting to know that he and mother had liked the same sort of men. It’d been even more uncomfortably when he’d asked her for…tips…because well Julien was so terrible at this sort of things and mother so so much better.

He should point out now that the same techniques his mother had employed to woo his father did not in fact actually carry over and work on Fenris.

He knew this from practical experience.

Fenris did not react well to Julien when he’d gently slid his fingers up Fenris’ bicep, the elf had turned red, glowed a little, snatched his arm away from Julien as soon as Julien had stopped touching him. He’d given Julien this intense look for the rest of the day, Julien had interpreted it as a glare and had kept his hands to himself next time they’d gotten close. Though Fenris had started getting closer afterwards and Julien wasn’t sure what to do because he’d wanted to touch but he’d refrained himself from touching because…well…he didn’t want to overstep his bounds because Fenris didn’t like him. Then trying to be helpful with teaching Fenris how to read and setting aside a special time just the two of them, alone, where they could talk and flirt had ended up as…friendly bonding experience rather than as a romantic one. Julien had failed at dressing in ways to catch Fenris’ eye in a favorable way, because when he had it ended up making Fenris growly and Julien felt like a terrible fool. Fenris had made Julien swear never to wear the outfit again, which made his mother sad because she had specifically picked out to ‘enhance his natural beauty’.

Julien asked his mother now, where she was at his father’s side, what natural beauty did he have when he was laying on the Hanged Man’s floor bleeding from half healed wounds and rumpled from his nap. He got no answer.

Typical, he’d probably asked at an inappropriate time because his parents were likely reuniting…again. Maker! Oh god, he’d just envisioned his parents having sex. His dead parents. His very beloved parents, but still they were…oh Maker he was going to the Void. He was going to the Void.

“Whatever you just thought of, you are not actually going to the Void.” Fenris said, voice filled with dry amusement. The elf knew him so well it was scary sometimes. Varric chuckled somewhere nearby. “He’s right Hawke, I doubt you could get there even if you tried.”

“Oh I don’t know Hawke’s very determined when he wants to be.” Merrill piped up. “He manages to do such improbable things so easily, so perhaps we shouldn’t be telling him that he’d be unable to do it? That might just give him the ability to do it. Like winning Asha’Bellanor’s favor, or getting out of the Deep Roads and defeating that rock spirit you came across, not getting caught by templars while using magic in the city, and all those monsters we keep stumbling upon, and the Arishok, defeating him.”

“You might have a point Daisy. Every time I think ‘heh Hawke can’t possibly do that’ he does, spectacularly and in a way I wouldn’t have dreamed up on my own. It’s what makes his story so compelling. Though…I am taking artistic liberty with how handsome and suave you are. Stories don’t sell as well when I say ‘and the ridiculously tall mage tripped over a corpse and in trying to regain his balance managed to hit the switch to the secret passage that led to the creepy ruin under the Hightown mansion that no one had known about previously’. I’m adding a few embellishments, like ‘the possessed people creepily told them to ‘go back’-“

“But Varric they did do that.” Julien piped up, a small smile on his lips as he closed his eyes again and let the familiar warm voice of his friends wash over him.

“I’m not done yet, so hush. ‘the possessed people creepily told them to ‘go back’ and Hawke was suddenly beset by demons, and with the help of his companions he defeated them all. As he rifled through the pockets of the now unconscious nobles, he found a key to a locked door that led to the creepy ruin.’ Sounds much cleaner that way.”

“Don’t forget the bow, I found the bow on the corpse I tripped over. Where are you going to put that? It’s Sebastian’s family’s heirloom, and sounds like the sort of plot piece you’d like to give me to give to Sebastian to win his favor.”

“Do you also want me to add your comment of ‘oh this is shiny and would match Sebastian’s holy armor, do you think he’d like that as a present?’?” Varric mimicked Julien’s voice mockingly. It would have hurt or stung a little if Julien didn’t know that Varric meant nothing by it.

Julien laughed even as his cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “Of course not, in your story I’m supposed to realize its importance at first glance and take it heroically to my friend.”

“Andraste’s flaming knickerweasles _what did you do_?” Anders’ voice made Julien smile a bit wider. Granted things were awkward, were going to get more awkward when Anders got close because Julien’s ‘fenris sense’ still had the warrior protectively close, and there was Merrill who still had Julien’s head in her lap. Anders sounded accusing, but Julien wasn’t sure who Anders was actually accusing of Julien’s current state of…awkwardly high bleeding heap on a tavern floor.

“Fell off the bench?” Julien supplied helpfully, cracking his eyes open to see Anders kneeling down beside him. He focused on the golden healer, and Maker Anders was attractive and if he didn’t remind Julien just a _little_ too much of Julien’s father then Maker Fenris would have competition.

So far Julien had no daddy issues that he was aware of so he was still firmly Fenris’…ex…bitch? Oh Maker he didn’t know what to call himself! In his own head!

“You’ve reopened some wounds.” Anders muttered to himself or possibly Julien. It was hard to tell, and Anders’ magic was doing all sorts of warm tingly creation healer things that felt painful and pleasant all at once.

“Felt that.” Julien said with a smile. Anders huffed a sound somewhere between reprimanding and amused and it had Julien relaxing a little more. Anders wasn’t worried, so it meant he wasn’t going to die in the Hanged Man. Which was good. When Julien died he wished that it was going to be asleep, in bed, after a lifetime filled with good work. A peaceful death, a clean death, not filled with blood or anger. He didn’t want his death to start a fight, incite his friends into doing something foolish in his name. His friends would do that if they felt he needed to be avenged.

“We should take him home, clean him up, and he’s to have bed rest for a couple of days. Since you’ve managed to undo some of the delicate healing process with coming down here and doing whatever magical thing you do to end up on the floor.”

“I missed you all, and since I could hobble around assisted I thought I could come here.” Julien said softly. “Also to make sure you guys hadn’t killed each other.” Julien sat up with a barely concealed wince as three sets of hands helped him. Only one set stayed on him as he moved from sitting to standing, and Julien was more than a little grateful that it was Fenris since he swooned ever so slightly.

Maker he was a ridiculously tall mildly muscular man, and while he agreed he was a bit of an odd duck swooning was not supposed to happen. Men did not swoon, even men such as Julien. It was even more embarrassing to have his much shorter (though admittedly much much stronger) ex lover/friend support him with nary as twitch or a grunt of strain. Did he need to work out? No! He didn’t want to end up like Carver, all muscles upon muscles, and while it was admittedly somewhat attractive on his brother Julien…oh Maker.

Oh oh Maker.

He just realized his brother was attractive! He needed to…to go home..and there was no way he could unthink that thought! He wouldn’t be able to look Carver in the eye.

“Lean on me.”

It was an order, not a request. It also had Julien breaking out of his near panic. Good old Fenris know exactly when to pipe up to derail Julien’s train of thought. It was comforting though, to be this close to the elf again. Smell his unique scent, and he was allowed to just be…near Fenris. Julien had done his best to be respectful of Fenris’ space, not inviting himself over to Fenris’ mansion to talk or other silly reasons Julien had made up to be able to be over there. No, he now sent his various companions with the baskets of goods Julien usually prepared for Fenris, pies, meals, not that Fenris couldn’t feed himself but mother and Bodhan, even Orana now, had always made too much and the leftovers would have gone to waste if Julien didn’t send them to others. Not that Julien didn’t feed all his companions with leftovers (since most of the time they steadfastly refused to come over for actual dinner), especially Merrill and Anders, but Fenris…was…well Julien always lingered longer with Fenris, talked more…felt more at ease with and somehow simultaneously flustered out of his mind.

“I won’t be too much of a burden?” Julien asked quietly as Fenris started to steer them out, without even letting Julien say goodbye. Goodbyes were rather silly in their group anyway, since they always knew that they’d see him soon enough with another amusing adventure waiting to happen.

“Have I?” Fenris asked and Julien could feel Anders following behind them at a respectable distance, Sebastian and Aveline as well. It made him smile a little knowing that they were following to make sure he made it home safely. Still Fenris’ question needed answering.

“I’ve never had to carry you.” Julien pointed out, Fenris out of all of them had been the most resistant to being nearly killed in battle. Julien fell the most often, if only because he somehow ended up in the middle of the enemy and had no idea how he got there, just that he needed to do something quickly.

“Mmm that’s what you think. You’ve carried us all Hawke, I just don’t think you realize how much we all need you.” Julien felt a weak chuckle bubbling up. It was his first reaction to everything that ever tried to pin him as being important. He wasn’t important, his friends were, his family was…but Julien himself? He was just a man, a mage, who was surrounded by wonderful brilliant people who hadn’t yet let life take them down despite all the tragedies they’d faced.

“I doubt you all need me that much, you’d all get along fine on your own, joking aside on how everything would devolve into a bloodbath.” The strong arm the was wrapped around Julien’s waist tightened, pulling the mage closer and managing to shoot a rather unhealthy amount of pain through Julien’s body (and heart).

“We might survive, yes, but I doubt that we would actually be living. I…you bring out the best in us, and sometimes it makes you seem invincible because you do so much. For that…I am sorry, because I let myself be blinded and placed you in grave danger.”

“Did you think I’d lose?” Julien whisper quietly, so their companions couldn’t hear. Fenris had been the one to volunteer him to fight the Arishok single handedly.

“Never, I knew you’d win…but whether you lived to see your victory was another matter.” Fenris said quietly. “I would never have forgiven myself if you’d died Hawke.”

Julien’s breath caught in his throat and his head felt so terribly dizzy. He just…was Fenris…he couldn’t understand what was going on. At least Fenris still thought of him as a friend. That was…as reassuring as Julien was going to make it be. He wouldn’t ask for more, not again, not when it distressed Fenris. He could keep this though, he could keep their friendship.

“I would have forgiven you…if I’d died, you know. I wouldn’t have thought you’d sent me to do that maliciously. I’d just have been worried I betrayed your faith in me somehow, because you don’t bet, ever, unless you’re sure of the outcome. I’ve learned that much losing so much money to you in Wicked Grace.”

“The abomination thinks I cheat at that.” Fenris’ voice was somewhere between subdued and amused and Julien couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“You’re the most honorable man I know Fenris, you never cheat at Wicked Grace, but you do exploit your opponents weaknesses spectacularly against them. I figured you knew something I didn’t, and that I’d come through it in the end because…well... you had faith in me is all.” Julien babbled at the end, his face warming with embarrassment as silence descended upon them.

It lasted for most of the way up the stairs to Hightown.

“Honor or not, if the Arishok had killed you I would have killed him as well. I…I cannot lose you Hawke. You are the only person I have that I care so much for.”

“You’ll never lose me Fenris, we’re best friends…for ever. No matter what. I won’t let anything take me from you if you need me so much.” Julien wanted to stop, he wanted to stop and babble on about how much he _loved_ Fenris, how much he cared for him in more than just a friendly manner. They should be opposites, they should snipe at each other, they should fight…but they didn’t. Julien found ways to simply speak to Fenris, to avoid the hot buttons for the most part, and realize when it simply wouldn’t be a good idea for anyone’s emotional health to bring certain party members along. He…didn’t want to be the good man right now, he didn’t want to be the leader who looked after everyone.

Julien wanted to be selfish and hold Fenris close and beg the elf to reconsider because Julien needed him like he needed air to breath or his heart to beat in his chest if he wanted to continue living. Julien wanted to get on his knees and beg. He wanted so many many things. Yet he’d learned from years of being the eldest it wasn’t about what Julien wanted, it was what was best for everyone.

“Besides you’re not alone, you do have everyone to look out for you. Even Anders, despite how both of you fight.”

Fenris snorted in disbelief.

Julien hated how his friends tried to use him as the excuse as to why they still hung out together. He wasn’t strong enough alone to do that. It was simply that he was the most convenient reason they could think of, the most palatable, rather than them having to look in a mirror and realize that they liked all the other misfits in their group. Still he would deal with it until they could find it in themselves to admit that they were loyal to each other, not because they were all Julien’s friends but because they were all simply friends (or well rivals, but rivals counted as friends in Julien’s mind).

They lapsed into silence again. They made it to Julien’s mansion with surprising lack of trouble, perhaps the gangs were giving him a night off or they had simply been decimated during the Qunari attack and hadn’t yet recovered their numbers. The latter was more likely.

“Messere Hawke!” Bodhan’s voice made Julien smile kindly at the dwarf. Bodhan was more than just a servant, he was a friend, he was…Julien would say that he was like a kindly uncle who decided to look after everyone. It always made Julien terribly uncomfortable having a servant, having been poor for most of his life Julien was simply used to doing everything for himself. He’d taken over household chores when he got big enough, freeing his mother to go out and work with father. It might have seemed odd for the eldest boy to do that, but it had worked out far better that way. Julien was kept out of sight, out of mind for most of the other villagers and Bethany had joined him in house duties once she was old enough.

“Oh just a little bit of an accident Bodhan.” Julien calmed the fretting dwarf with gentle tones. Sandal stared at Julien from his spot by the enchanting apparatus, vacant blue eyes almost showing a touch of concern. Orana peeked her head over the banister to see what was going on.

“Orana, could you be a kind dear and start filling the bathtub for me? It seems I am under doctor’s orders to get clean.”

“Yes! Of course! Right away Ma-Messere Hawke.” She scurried off. Bodhan tutted under his breath as he studiously ignored Fenris and looked Julien over. “Will you be needing help messere?” Bodhan asked quietly. Julien knew that the dwarf, whatever faults he might have, was a good father and caretaker for Sandal. He could be trusted to help, and Julien felt more than a little woozy still and he was terribly sore.

“No, no that won’t be necessary. I’ll help.” The starkhaven brogue behind him startled Julien. He hadn’t realized that Sebastian had come in as well. The priest came beside Hawke and smiled. “Unless…I am overstepping the bounds of our friendship?”

A quick breath escaped Julien because…he’d never really noticed how _blue_ Sebastian’s eyes were or how different he looked when he smiled like that. Julien felt like he’d been socked in the gut and he wasn’t sure how or why he’d been punched, just that he had been. A faint blush made itself known on Julien’s cheeks as he looked off to the side.

“No, no you aren’t. I’m just surprised.” Fenris felt stiff underneath him, and the air around him changed, charged now. It felt similar to how Fenris reacted a split second before battle, lyrium markings activating before the elf plunged himself head first into the fray.

“Surprised I’d help a friend?”

“Ah…no, more surprised you’d help me bathe. Naked people, vows of chastity, water…doesn’t seem conducive to that.”

Sebastian chuckled and it did all sorts of warm tingly things in Julien’s body. Like butterflies flying in his stomach that he wanted to step on because only Fenris was allowed to do that! Not Sebastian, no matter how nice the priest was he wasn’t Fenris. It was that knowledge that Sebastian had his vows and that Julien loved Fenris that made the mage agree and feel comfortable.

Julien moved as if to go to Sebastian to let the rogue help him up the stairs when Fenris’ grip on him tightened. Ah so…not going to Sebastian quite yet. Julien bit his tongue to keep his silence, not wishing to draw attention to Fenris’ behavior as the elf began to dutifully help Julien up the stairs. The silece between them had shifted, and Julien wasn’t sure how or why it had. It wasn’t like Sebastian had proposed he spend the night naked, save for the Andraste codpiece in Julien’s bed.

Had Sebastian’s father insisted on Andraste when he’d commissioned the armor? Had it been his own subtle reminded that now Sebastian’s life was given to the Chantry, that the Holy Lady now owned all of Sebastian, guarding his most precious pieces from harm and ruin? Or had it just been a father’s way of trying to not so tactfully keep people out of his son’s pants? Since, trying to remove the face of their prophet might have been a step too far for most people.

Fenris took Julien to the bathing room and gently sat the mage down on a bench. He stood in front of Julien, eyes dark and flashing with an emotion Julien couldn’t name. The silence between them, the fact that Julien couldn’t read his friend was another sign of how far they’d drifted apart. Fenris lifted his hand, and opened his mouth, yet before he could touch Julien again or speak the words on his mind Sebastian walked into the room. Julien didn’t hear the snap of Fenris’ mouth when it closed, and the elf shifted, shooting a look half questioning half venom towards the priest. “Get better Hawke.” It was an order, one that insinuated that Julien would pay dearly if he didn’t follow.

Julien smiled faintly at it, because it meant that Fenris still cared. Fenris left, his back ramrod straight and his footsteps silent. The bath already filled with steaming water.

“Do you need help undressing?” Sebastian’s concerned voice had Julien falling out of his thoughts and looking at the priest.

“Only a little.” The faint blush on his cheeks helped him turn an even bright shade of red when Sebastian stepped forward. There was no pity in his eyes, but Julien felt that there was something there, unsure and confused as to what it might be he ignored Sebastian’s eyes in favor of tilting his head down and trying to undo the clasps and knots that held Julien’s robe together.

Another set of hands joined his and soon enough The robe was being tugged off. It was so…different than when Fenris had done this. There was a headiness in the air now too, but Julien chalked it up to having to need help from someone who wasn’t family or…Fenris in undressing. Sebastian knelt in front of Julien now, untying and slipping off the mage’s boots with ease. When he moved up, undoing the now stained bandages on Julien’s chest that he felt the…intimacy of the situation.

“Thank you.” Julien murmured, honestly grateful that he’d have a friend who’d humble himself so in helping Julien undress and take off his bandages. Sebastian tilted his head up and smiled, and Maker it managed to make Julien flush. What had happened? How could Sebastian keep doing that with his smile? Perhaps it was just some residual charm from Sebastian’s earlier days that he didn’t know he was pulling out.

Julien eased up, chewing on his bottom lip as he carefully shucked off his pants. He wanted to dive headfirst into the water, though the angry half healed wounds on his chest, stomach, and back forbade him from doing so. He awkwardly shuffle walked to the sunken tub, stepping down into it and steadfastly refusing to look at Sebastian.

When he sat on the stairs into the bath, the water coming up only halfway to his waist but still managing to color the water with a hint of pink did Sebastian move forward. “Hawke…how have you been bathing if you’ve needed help?” Sebastian asked concerned as he found a soft cloth and dipped it in the water, running it over Julien’s shoulders.

“Orana and Mr. Flibbles.” Julien said softly. “I know that Bodhan perhaps might be the more appropriate choice but I feel comfortable around her. Mr. Flibbles helps me get to the bathroom, and Orana helps bathe me, clean the wounds, change the bandages, and then hands me off to Mr. Flibbles again to help me back into bed.”

Sebastian chuckled. “You mean all the times I’ve been here, where I could easily help you to the bath, you instead had your mabari help you? Was it pride Hawke, that kept you from asking for help?” His voice was soothing as Julien closed his eyes. Reaching up to take his glasses off and lay them to the side, he mulled over the question in his head.

“No, I didn’t want to ask more from you than I already have.” Sebastian stopped his movements when he said that. Julien took a deep breath. “I’ve asked a great deal of you, and in our group we aren’t the closest of friends. Help I wouldn’t have thought twice of asking Aveline or Varric or Merrill, I have to mull over a little when I think about asking you. Not to think that you wouldn’t help if I asked for it, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds or ask too much.”

Sebastian reached up and untied the string that held Julien’s hair in its braid. He neatly combed it out with his fingers, watching with fascination at how long the hair really was, and how beautiful it looked free. He contemplated quietly his response.

“Hawke, you would make a fine Viscount or King.” Julien flushed at Sebastian’s words as the priest moved, getting a small bathing bucket to fill with water. He returned, upending it over Julien’s head and soaking the mage. He then poured a herb scented soap in Julien’s hair, he began to scrub the soap in when he decided he could continue. “You understood that you could ask me, and that I would likely do it, but you were unsure of my reaction and where the true nature of our relationship lies. You see your power and use it judiciously, working not simply on what you want or need, but what everyone wants or needs and trying to make the best compromise. You are fine man, and I am happy to follow you wherever you lead. Close your eyes.” The last sentence, a gentle command that Julien obeyed when he heard Sebastian fill the bucket again and pour it over Julien’s head to wash out the suds. “Though, this might sound strange, I think you should be selfish once in awhile. You’re a good man Hawke, you deserve to have what you want.”

Julien felt the soap on his back, gently skirting around the wounds. He bit his lip and took in a shaky breath. “I will not deny that I have wanted to be selfish.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “There is a great appeal in throwing my hands up and saying ‘why do I have to fix this? It’s your mess, _you_ fix it.’ Then I look around and realize that for every time I have to coddle a noble, I’m also doing good things like helping the miners in the Bone Pit, or I’m saving Feyneriel from the demons in his dreams. Also if I tried to simply take what I wanted, with no regards to others, what I’d get would be soured and turn to ash. As a mage, as a man, I try to be careful of what I can do, what I want to do, and what I should do. All actions I take now, will have future consequences. I try to take care.”

Sebastian poured water over him, washing the soap off his back before handing Julien the soap so he could cleanse his front. He ran the soap over himself, not with as much care as Sebastian had.

“If only there was a way to make you Prince of Starkhaven.” Sebastian said almost wistfully and Julien laughed.

“I doubt they’d let a mage sit on the throne.”

“Perhaps they would if you were my wife.” Julien choked on air as he spluttered and flailed, his body reacting so…immediately to the suggestion had Julien sliding off the bench and further into the water with a resounding splash. The mage flailed for a second before a strong hand grasped his arm and hauled him up, and after a second Julien began laughing.

“Oh! Oh I’m sorry Sebastian. I’ve gotten you all wet.” Julien giggled and he was certain his face was never going to ever be its natural color ever again. It was simply going to be stuck on ‘blush’ and he’d never find anything to flatter him clothes wise. “I just, how on earth would the issues of legitimate heirs be settled? Magic can do a great deal of things, but I doubt it can make me conceive. Also, I know that I wear robes, but I doubt that I’d look very pretty in a dress.”

“Oh I’m sure we can work around those issues. As my wife you’d have a great deal of privilege and you’d be better suited than most to keep me on my path.”

Julien smiled. “I could do it even better as a friend and trusted advisor and simply hit you with my ‘stick of sense’ whenever I feel you’re about to do something foolish.”

Sebastian smiled. “Ah but I’m not Carver and I wouldn’t benefit being hit with your staff. I’m curious as to where you came up with that, you don’t seem naturally inclined to smack people in the head with hard objects even when they’re being stupid.” Julien supposed Sebastian had a point, if he was so inclined quite a few people would be walking around with semi permanent concussions.

“Oh? I never told you the story?” Julien smiled as he slowly got up out of the tub, mindful of his now thrice aggravated wounds. “It came about a story my father used to tell us when we were children. ‘The Lion King’ is what he called it; it was actually his silly version of the Fereldan play ‘Hamlet’. There was this character in there, a wiseman naked Rafeeki. Rafeeki was a baboon; actually, all the characters were animals from the Silent Plains and don’t ask me how father knew all about them he just did. Perhaps he just translated it in a way so we could best understand all those weighty concepts. Oh dear, well when the main character was being rather…dimwitted he’d hit him with his stick to knock sense into him and then Father would occasionally do that to us…and I just picked it up.”

Sebastian smiled and the rogue wrapped a towel around Julien, helping him to dry off. There was a faint chuckle as well. “Your father sounds like an interesting man.”

“He was, he was quite a bit like Anders actually. A healer by nature though also fairly proficient with combat magic. I think it’s part of why I find it difficult to view Anders in a romantic sense, he’s too close to my father personality wise for me to feel comfortable.” Julien wrinkled his nose slightly with a faint smile curling his lips. “I do love him as a friend, and it would make me happy if you would stop baiting him.”

Sebastian felt a small bit of a flush creep up his neck, looking chastised though Julien couldn’t quite make out the expression. He knew because while Julien wasn’t blind without his glasses, objects were mere shapes of color with no clear definitions, like that Orlesian painter Monet.

“He says blasphemous things.”

Julien moved, doing his best to make sure he didn’t slip on the floor as he dried off as best he could, only flushing faintly when Sebastian took the towel from him and did the rest.

“So do we all.” Julien reminded Sebastian. “I understand why Fenris cannot reconcile his issues with both Anders and Merrill. You, on the other hand, have no such reason or excuse for your antagonizing of either party. You are a good friend Sebastian, but Merrill is happily still a Dalish and Anders is what he is for a good reason.”

“They go against the Chant of Light. Against what Andraste said, what I believe. Do you wish for me to ignore that?”

Julien smiled when Sebastian wrapped the towel around Julien’s waist and tucked it to help preserve the mage’s modesty. Julien placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, squinting his eyes a bit more to try and focus on the priest.

“I am still inebriated so I cannot argue this yet with you.” Julien paused, chewing on his bottom lip. “But please, can you not antagonize them or try to convert Merrill? Merrill is as good at deflecting as Isabela in her own way, and while she seems cheerful it does upset her. You are basically telling her that her beliefs are invalid.”

Sebastian sighed. “It is my duty to try and save as many as I can, Hawke. Though, I will try to do it less overtly if you wish it.”

Julien chuckled. “Ah there is a compromise we can agree on, use subtlety and try to approach her from her viewpoint and perhaps we will find less conflict in our party.”

“I doubt that, but if it makes you happy it’s what I shall do.”

“Thank you.”

They moved and Julien half draped himself on Sebastian, the armor cool against his bare skin. The rogue helped the mage from the bathroom to his bedroom where Mr. Flibbles sat on the side of the bed, his intelligent brown eyes narrowed in a half glare at Sebastian. Julien only smiled at the blob of his dog and then turned to smile at Orana who had dutifully gotten out the dressings for his wounds as well as clean night clothes.

“Thank you Sebastian, I think Orana has it from here.” Sebastian almost protested, Julien could feel the tensing of the rogue’s muscles. Yet he moved and gently helped Julien sit on his bed. “Til tomorrow Hawke.”

“Til tomorrow Sebastian.” Julien repeated with a nod and Sebastian left. When the priest had gone Orana came over, a strange air about her brushed against his magic. As if she was disapproving of something.

“Orana, what’s wrong?” Julien asked quietly as the elven maid gently dabbed healing poultice into his wounds.

“Oh…Messere Hawke…I just…” She tried to find the words. Orana was a nervous girl, understandably of course since she had once been a slave to Hadriana. She was often quiet and shy, but she liked Julien, Julien had found out. It had taken a great deal of coaxing to get her to speak her mind with him, and she always floundered when she thought her thoughts were going to upset him.

“Why did you let him bathe you?” There wasn’t a hint of accusation in her voice, just confusion and fear. Ah, he’d been relying solely on her for his care for the most part since he’d come home mostly dead from the battle with the Arishok. Seeing him have another person help him must have unsettled her.

“He offered and it would have been rude to refuse. I do trust him, though I still prefer you.” It was quiet for a few moments as Orana kept dabbing at his wounds. Her touches were gentle, and he wondered if she wouldn’t like to go help Anders at his clinic. She’d make a wonderful healer.

“Just…try not to let him do it again. I don’t think Messere Fenris would approve.” The mousy elf whispered.

Julien stilled, cursing his own eyes because he couldn’t see the look on her face. He chewed on his bottom lip worriedly for a moment and when Orana began to bandage him up did he find the courage to find the words he wanted to ask.

“Why? Did I…do…something wrong?” He felt dizzy though he couldn’t lie down yet. Orana kept bandaging him.

“No. Messere Hawke.” Orana sighed and Mr. Flibbles laid his head on Julien’s toweled leg. “You did nothing wrong I just…Since you…prefer men it might just seem a bit…unseemly to let one so handsome wash you.”

Julien felt his entire body turn red from embarrassment. “I…but I don’t like…Maker, he’s a priest!” Julien spluttered and only the knowledge that it hurt like a bastard still managed to keep him from flailing. “No, just, he’s safe. He’s very safe from…the wanting..and the ogling. He’s also supposed to be chaste, and I doubt he’d break his vows for a _mage_ who also happens to be a _man_. I also love Fenris, with…well with everything and I’m not…oh Orana have I made a complete mess of things without realizing it again?”

“No.” Orana said firmly as she wrapped her thin little arms around his shoulders, hugging him. “No, you haven’t. It only happened once…I’m sure Messere Fenris understands.” Julien nodded, trying to believe her words and not wonder how he could stumble into messes so easily. She smoothed his hair.

“Let me help you get dressed and then go to bed.” Orana ordered gently, and Julien was glad that she was finding it in herself to give him orders. He smiled at that, and it felt a great deal less awkward when he slipped on his sleeping pants, everyone deciding it was far too much effort to try and wrestle him into the shirt.

A potion was placed infront of him just as he was about to lie down. “Messere Anders said to drink this.” Orana said softly and Julien didn’t question, taking the bottle and downing it in one go. The taste of elfroot and other herbs flooded his senses and he realized Anders had given him a diluted pain potion with a health potion mixed in.

He settled back into the bed, Mr. Flibbles jumping up and curling up next to his side. Orana doused the lights, opening the window to let a cool breeze inside to air out the room before leaving Julien to his slumber.

That night he had fever dreams of Fenris. The elf kissed him and stroked his face with gentle fingers. He whispered words that Julien couldn’t understand. He could taste the wine on those bewitching lips, breathed it in, and he wished that he didn’t have such dreams. That he didn’t have this ghost to tease and taunt him with what would never be. He couldn’t even lift his hands in his own dream to embrace his phantom lover. No dreams would be better than this bittersweet torture.

\----  
“MWEEEEP!”

Julien felt that he was completely justified when he squeaked and jumped when he felt the sharply stinging smack against his backside. He gasped for breath as his face colored brightly, he jumped a little and grasped his own backside, trying to guard it from further attack as he whirled around, grey eyes wide.

“S-sebastian?” Julien stuttered out, confused and terribly surprised that the rogue was the closest companion. There had to be a perfectly good reason for this. There had to be. It was getting ridiculous how many perfectly legitmate reasons there were to smack his bottom, but he knew Sebastian was going to have one.

“There was a bee.” Sebastian muttered and Julien cringed. Well right, good thing Sebastian killed it then. Julien was allergic to bees and it would be rather unfortunate if he was stung by one without Anders close by. Besides Sebastian was looking so terribly innocent, not even a trace of mischief, just a good dose of repentence.

Maker there were a lot of bugs that met their demise on his ass. Would his ass soon be haunted? Was the veil going to tear or thin out? Julien didn’t know, he wasn’t sure if any sort of research into the matter had ever been made. Perhaps he’d ask Anders the next time Julien went to the clinic.

Julien might have called Sebastian a liar if the rogue hadn’t produced the now squashed incest corpse for his gazing enjoyment. Lovely, that had been on his ass. Merrill was staring wide eyed at Sebastian and Julien while…Fenris began to glow with an unholy light. This was supposed to have been a nice outing, the sort that had everyone hip deep in dead slavers and feeling good that they’d just managed to make the world a little better.

Fenris and Sebastian had been such good friends too at one point, best friends really. Now their conversations seemed almost hostile and Julien felt certain there was a meaning he was missing. Perhaps he should stop trying to be so friendly with Sebastian? The priest had just begun to open up to him and he was such a delightful friend, taking him to the Chantry’s archives, or finding Julien new books to store in his collection. The priest was a surprisingly affectionate person, he’d hesitantly begun touching Julien, but once he found the mage was in fact welcome to hug and interlocking arms while walking he’d been more open about it.

It just reminded Julien of when he’d been with his family; Bethany had been as touchy as he had been. They had always been holding hands or leaning upon one another, piling together like kittens or puppies. Carver had stopped touching once the teasing began, not from Julien or Bethany, but from the other village boys. He’d become so embarrassed so ashamed, that he’d gotten angry, snappy, and had refused to be hugged by anyone.

Sebastian likely missed that sort of intimacy, since he was certain none of the Chantry lay sisters seemed to be of the affectionate sort. Even Grand Cleric Elthina seemed to be kind in a distant sort of way. Julien wasn’t going to balk at giving his friend his much needed affection, he just wished it wasn’t so blasted uncomfortable sometimes.

Fenris glared furiously at Julien and Sebastian and Julien sucked in a breath and sent a questioning glance to the elf. Fenris marched over and without askance or seeming care, looped his arm with Julien’s and dragged the taller mage away from Sebastian.

That too had become a common occurrence. Sebastian and Fenris stared at each other for a second and Julien felt the hostility rise between them.

“Merrill! Come over here and help make me the ridiculously large center to an elf sandwich.” Julien was not ashamed he was asking Merrill to help buffer this. She smiled and skipped over, looping her arm with his other and leaned her head against his arm. “Oh isn’t this lovely? You’re always so fun to walk with Hawke.”

Her presence seemed to ward away whatever issue had come up and their party once again settled into something resembling normalcy, if normal included an elf on each arm and Sebastian taking up the rear. Fenris stayed silent, though his grip on Julien was firm and unyielding and Julien knew the only thing that was going to make Fenris let go was if slavers appeared. He…liked that. Actually, he liked having Fenris hold onto him and growl quietly in warning if any stranger came near. He was fairly certain Merrill only got to be so close was because Fenris was certain she wasn’t a threat to…well Julien wasn’t sure what Fenris was thinking right now but he’d let the elf do whatever he wanted quite happily if it meant Fenris would keep invading his personal space.

Maker now he sounded creepy. He was sure Fenris had a legitimate reason, on he wasn’t sharing with Julien no matter how many times the mage asked, for his newfound need to be even more possessive. He should press harder, but if he found out the cause then he’d likely be able to resolve it and then Fenris wouldn’t need to be so possessive anymore and then he’d stop touching Julien. Lovely he was so pathetic that he was doing this to get Fenris’ physical attention. What would mother say?

Likely something sage, entirely helpful for normal people, that Julien would likely bungle. Sometimes Julien wished for an ounce of Mother, Father, or Bethany’s people savviness, or their charm. He was just a giant clumsy scholar who happened to have a knack for making spectacular fireballs and had just a little bit of an elf fetish.

More a Fenris fetish than simply elf, but Jethann had been…uh…tempting the handful of times Julien had met the whore. He’d also noticed a few others that had been…well…Maker now he was sounding even creepier in his own head and he just wanted to die. He was a creepy pervert, perhaps he should get a bigger set of glasses, cut his hair, and cultivate a thin line of hair on his upper lip to complete the transformation process. Perhaps grow out his nails into claws? Ugh now he was…creeped out by his own thoughts.

Thankfully they made it to the slaver’s den that moment or else Julien would have likely fallen into the horrible trap of panic attack induced thinking. It was rather normal, the same sort of caverns that littered the entirety of the Wounded Coast. They began to go through it without much incident, save for the usual giant spiders and dragonlings.

They’d done this for years now, there’d been no deviation from their normal routine of ‘kill the things trying to kill us’. Still the earth rumbled and for a split second they all froze, eyes up at the ceiling of the caverns.

“GO!” Julien shouted, realizing when a rock fell and managed to actually kill one of the spiders. He turned summoning magic at his fingertips and hurled it at Merrill and Sebastian at the far side of the cave, pushing them out of the shaking cavern. An arm caught Julien around his middle and he realized Fenris was pushing them back into the tunnel that they’d been about to go through to find the slavers. They made it in when with a roar and a crash the ceiling collapsed in, blocking their exit.

Julien coughed for a moment, dust and rock particulate making it difficult to breathe properly. Fenris had a similar problem, and for a while it was just silence between them as they waited for the dust to settle.

Ah…well this was awkward. Julien began to realize with a growing sense of panic. Not simply because he was afraid for Merrill and Sebastian, or that they could potentially be trapped down in a cavern with no way to escape. Nope, he was stuck, in the gloom with only Fenris. He was alone with Fenris. Something that Julien had avoided with all the subtlety he could muster. He had to give Fenris space, but not make Fenris feel like he was being neglected. It was why the elf was always present for Julien’s outings. It was why Julien never missed a night at the Hanged Man. No, Julien had always been fine with being around Fenris when there were others around to keep him distracted from.

Well Fenris.

Julien eyes began to adjust to the darkness and he made a mage light just to help a bit. The light reflected off the lyrium on Fenris’ tattoos as the warrior stood staring at Julien with a look in his eyes that Julien couldn’t quite discern.

“Well it loo-mmppphhhnnngggg?” His verbal ascertation of the situation was cut off by gauntleted hands grasping his robes and yanking him down, with a hot possessive mouth claiming his lips so ferociously that Julien forgot he even existed in the wake of that mouth. His breath was kissed out of him, his soul was taken from him and held possessively in the hands of Fenris, who pried Julien’s lips open and shoved his tongue into the mage’s mouth, owning him so thoroughly Julien had wondered if he’d ever belonged to anyone else.

Fenris only pulled away when Julien realized he was dizzy from lack of air, and even still it took him a second to remember to breathe. He did so with a faint gasp as Fenris growled his hands keeping Julien bent.

“ _ **Mine**_.” The word seemed to echo in the dark as Fenris yanked Julien down again for another kiss. Julien moaned and surrendered to those lips, opening his mouth when Fenris wanted him too, sucking on Fenris’ tongue because it seemed the right thing to do. This kiss lasted just as long, and it was just as rough as the first one, and Julien didn’t care. He gladly surrendered to it because it meant Fenris was kissing him.

Fenris broke away again with a growl, lips sliding over Julien’s cheek and jaw, nipping and sucking at the spot where his jaw met his neck. Fenris was marking him, Julien knew it, knew it as the elf kept his attention on that spot as he shoved the mage into the wall. When Fenris was satisfied with the mark he pulled away.

“He _cannot_ have you. You’re _mine_. Anything else, anyone else…not you. Not _you_ I’ll fight him for you Julien.” Hearing Fenris say his name made Julien melt. He stood back against the wall and half bent, gasping for air as he tried to connect the dots. He failed, if only because Fenris had moved forward again lips and teeth on Julien’s neck as he kept marking the mage.

“F-fenris…what?” He wanted to smack himself, really because asking questions was not conducive to Julien’s new plan of ‘doing anything to keep Fenris kissing him’. Still the elf growled, a low threatening tone that vibrated Julien’s chest.

“Sebastian _wants_ you Julien.” Fenris said slowly, hands moving to Julien’s shoulders then arms wrapping around his neck, pressing their bodies together. Julien wrapped his arms around Fenris, a faint noise in the back of his throat as the elf rubbed up against him. Maker he wanted this, he needed this, he needed Fenris like he needed to breathe. “He wants you, and you are _mine_.” Fenris’ gaunleted hand cupped the back of Julien’s head, the metal tangling in the silvery white hair as Fenris claimed his mouth once more.

Fenris dragged a moan out of Julien as their tongue twisted and slide against each other. He was being owned, and really he should take offense to such a blatant display of possessiveness especially since they weren’t technically together. Oh Maker, they weren’t. What were they doing? Fenris had made it clear that they weren’t together, and now here he was with Fenris’ tongue shoved halfway down his throat in a cave that could likely have slavers down the passage and the way out blocked.

Julien wanted to say ‘sod it all’ but he couldn’t. He couldn’t use Fenris, he couldn’t take advantage of the elf’s feelings that Julien might abandon him as a friend and go to Sebastian. He pulled back from the kiss with a broken groan, wondering why his parents had to instill such a strong sense of morality in him? Couldn’t they have given him just a touch of depravity (besides being a pervy elf fancier)? A sense of selfishness that could win over his conscience?

“Fenris…I-I’m not going to stop being your friend.” Julien tried to say soothingly, though his voice was pitched a little lower and he ached to just, touch and taste Fenris as much as the elf would let him. “Y-you don’t have to do this to make me stay.”

“Don’t I? He weaves his trap like a spider and soon enough you’ll fall into his web.” Fenris muttered roughly. “He’s not good enough for you. Nothing is good enough for you but the Void will take me before I let him ruin you.”

Julien stilled. “Nothing? What about you?” His voice was a rough whisper and Fenris became still as well. There was silence between them, stretching on for an eternity. It swallowed them whole and slowly, painfully Fenris loosened his hold.

“Not even I.” He whispered and Julien felt his heart break in his chest. Something burned his eyes as he shut them for a moment and steeled himself against his own emotions. He let go of Fenris, his hand clenching into fists as he slowly breathed in and out.

“You deserve every happiness that you can find Fenris.” Julien whispered. “If you asked I’d give it to you, but…Maker…It isn’t fair to either of us if…if you think you aren’t worth being loved. I…I’m not like everyone else, I don’t want a quick lay Fenris, I don’t want a quick tryst in a cavern. I just want…you. I want you and I want you to want me back, I fell in love with you Fenris. All of you and I see you as a free man, but…you don’t see yourself as being free or equal or anything and I don’t know how to convince you. I-I love you Fenris…so I’m saying _no_. No, until you…see me as your equal like I’ve always seen you to be.” Julien shamefully brought his hands up to wipe his face free of tears.

“Hawke…” And the sound of his surname had Julien swallowing back bile in his throat. “I will…I understand.” Fenris refused to look at him and Julien just wanted to go home and hug his dog. He bolstered himself though, and he carefully reminded himself that he had just saved himself and Fenris some heartache. He kept himself from feeling used again, or feeling like he’d done some horrible unforgivable thing to his best friend once again.

They fell into an awkward silence as Julien straightened his robe, noting that there were holes in his clothes that mirrored the size and shape as the claws on Fenris’ gauntlets. Maker that was going to be embarrassing to mend. Shuffling onward, Fenris leading the way, they wandered through the caverns, not even running into the slavers they’d set out to find but thankfully finding an exit that spit them out on the opposite side of the Wounded Coast.

“Fenris…I…you’ll never have to worry about Sebastian…wooing me.” Julien mumbled finally as they saw their companions on the horizon, Merrill on a rock sobbing into her hands while Sebastian was trying to awkwardly soothe her. Fenris only shot Julien half of a questioning glance.

“I…uh…like elves…” Julien mumbled fidgeting with his fingers as he saw Fenris raise his eyebrow questioningly and somehow look mollified all at once. “Male elves…with tans and tattoos and light colored hair…and that are sort of kind of really deadly.” Julien coughed, figuring that was the best way to try and cover his embarrassment and Fenris’ slowly curling smile of possessiveness. That was a fairly specific description in Kirkwall at least, especially when given that Julien was the Champion of Kirkwall and that few things were deadly to the mage.

“Well that’s a pity for Sebastian then.” Fenris murmured, he paused and touched Julien on the arm. The mage glanced at Fenris, his eyes still red from his tears earlier and his smile strained and weary. “Wait for me. I…I will try to become a man that I feel you deserve. When that day comes nothing will keep me from you.”

Julien smiled more sincerely. “I’ll wait for you Fenris. Besides who else could ever fall under that description besides you?” He teased gently and Fenris relaxed more, nodding. They made it back to their companions and as Merrill latched onto Julien, holding onto him like he would drift away if she left him alone, they started their journey back to Kirkwall.  
\----  
 **Two Days Later**

“Damnit Choirboy!”  
Varric sighed as he pinched his nose. Sebastian sat in Varric’s suite, arms folded over his chest and giving the dwarf an unimpressed look.

“What? I thought it went well, they kissed at least. I want Hawke happy just as much as you do, if not moreso.”

“But he didn’t get laid, that was the entire point of this ridiculous venture. All that work, timing, resources, _wasted_ because you didn’t get Fenris riled up enough to be able to make Hawke not _think_ for ten minutes and cockblock himself.”

“They’re building a more meaningful relationship, shouldn’t you want that?” Sebastian asked, amused. He loved Hawke, the mage was…unique, special, beautiful, and perhaps if the situation had been different, if Fenris hadn’t loved Hawke so much Sebastian might have actually tried to woo the bespectacled mage.

“Meaningful relationships don’t sell quite as well as sex does. Especially man on man sex, Maker women eat that shit up with a spoon. I want Hawke happy, and he’ll be happy once he’s bent over some table being drilled by Broody.”

“They’re our friends Varric.”

“Their love affair is also my main source of income. Ah well, we haven’t run out of options just yet.”

“We haven’t? Shouldn’t we just let them work it out themselves?” Sebastian raised a dubious eyebrow in Varric’s direction. The dwarf chuckled. “O-ho Choirboy, we’ve just begun our meddling.”


End file.
